By R. A. Salvatore
The ebook used to be hidden well.
It’s pages promised the ability of the Witch-King himself.
And now that it’s been stumbled on, even the truth that it kills a person silly adequate to crack its conceal won’t cease humans from combating over it.
Welcome to the Bloodstone Lands!
Human murderer Artemis Entreri and his darkish elf better half Jarlaxle have come to the demon-haunted wastelands of the frozen north on the request in their dragon client. It doesn’t take lengthy for them to discover themselves stuck in the course of a fight among strong forces that may like not anything greater than to determine them either lifeless . . . or worse.
But Entreri and Jarlaxle aren’t simply any wandering sellswords, and the traditional evils and sour blood-feuds of the wild Bloodstone Lands can have eventually met their fit.
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Additional info for Promise of the Witch-King (Forgotten Realms: The Sellswords, Book 2)
Teldin huffed in disbelief. Before he could tell the gypsy what he thought of such self-serving "logic," the darker dracon clasped his clawed hands to his cheeks and shrieked like a just-pinched farm maiden. Teldin twisted to see what had frightened the creature. Bright light spilled out of the tavern and shone on the wooden wall of the alley. Against the wall was a spherical shadow bristling with eyestalks and growing ominously larger. The beholder was following them into the alley. " yelled Teldin, breaking into a run.
The admiral frowned, startled by Vallus's word choice and what it implied. He had deliberately used a term that conferred great honor, and that was reserved for things elven. Vallus pressed his point. "The cloak obviously has accepted Teldin Moore. From what we know of the Spelljammer, there is no reason to assume that the great ship will not do likewise. The human has shown the strength to endure and to persevere. I believe he possesses the potential to command. " The elven woman considered him carefully, weighing his obvious conviction against his self-interest.
Teldin knew nothing of such a place, but after a disastrous experience with the elven Imperial Fleet he was not willing to depend on legend and hearsay for answers. He had purchased his own ship using money given to him by the fal One Six Nine, and he had stopped on Garden to stock up for a long voyage of exploration. Because of Garden's peculiar shape, sunset came with the speed and drama of an eclipse. Before Teldin's eyes could adjust to the sudden darkness, a passing centaur jostled him, sending him stumbling into one of the gray lizard men engaged in lighting the gas lamps along the street.
Promise of the Witch-King (Forgotten Realms: The Sellswords, Book 2) by R. A. Salvatore